Seventh Grade Alphas
by Just Another Fanatic
Summary: This is the story of the Beauty Brigade, the Femme Fatales, and the Betties, three cliques all competing for Massie's approval, boys, and the title of top clique at BOCD. Based off an RP by the same name. Read for love, lies, plots, schemes, and utter chaos. Who will win? Who will fail? And which clique will win the coveted key?
1. Chapter 1: Marie Goldstein, Alpha

**So, this is a rewriting of the RP Seventh Grade Alphas. I'm adding to the story, making it more fluid, extending scenes, etc. As well, I'll be writing on past where the RP ended up dying. Hope you like and review!**

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Chapter One: Marie Goldstein, Alpha

Oralee "Marie" Goldstein was born to be an Alpha. Her father, Big Bill Goldstein was an Alpha in the business world. Her mother, Deborah Goldstein nee Reese, was an Alpha among social climbers and socialites. Even her cousin, Parker, was an Alpha in the pool from the first time he floated in a bath.

At age three, Marie chose her domain. Ballet. She donned a pair of slippers and a tutu that was nearly as heavy as she was, and strutted into her ballet class, clutching the dangling keychain on her mother's monstrous purse with all her might, afraid that her mother would be disappointed if she wasn't the best in the class.

By age five, Marie was the number one in her class, and transferred to the near-by Body Alive Dance Studio, which was where she met the first girl that would go to her school. Amy Sherwood. Never, in Marie's life, had she met someone so close to her age that was just as good, if not better, at ballet as she was.

So Marie practiced. And practiced. And practiced. She wore her old slippers to bed, hoping that it would help her get better. She leaped around the house, rather than walked, because she had to spend every moment practicing.

And the last day of summer class, their dance instructor complemented Marie more than Amy for the first time. Marie smiled and her blue-flecked brown eyes slid to Amy, and from that moment on, Marie knew that Amy would suffer her wrath as long as Amy was still in Westchester.

Marie never imagined that Amy would have friends. On that first day of school Marie met for the first time Alice Sherwood and Michelle Van Allen. The three of them were connected at the hip. They shared crayons during coloring time. They sat all together during singing class. They even traded desserts from their lunches. They even spoke to boys at times; clearly they all had cooties.

It was something that Marie had never had. So, she spilled her juice on Amy's nice white skirt. Tested pens on Amy's art. Put sand in Amy's shoes. She managed to make all of it seem like an accident and never got in trouble, and Amy teared up each time. But with those friends on either side of her, Amy would not break and Marie felt lonely.

One day while a five-year-old Marie was plotting her next plan against Amy (gum on Amy's seat), a dark-haired girl sat next to her. She'd seen her, sometimes playing with an equally dark-haired boy during recess. Clearly, this girl had cooties as well.

"You should drop it in her hair."

Marie turned to this girl. "What do you mean?"

"The gum. If you want to make her cry, you should get your gum in her hair."

Marie nodded. Maybe this Cootie Girl had some potential. So, not long later, Amy was bawling as Michelle and Alice refused to touch the gum in Amy's hair while the teacher was using latex gloves.

It turned out Cootie Girl was named Blair Kingston. And Blair's mother was a giant. Marie's neck hurt for two whole days after spending half an hour looking up at Blair's mother, because she wasn't supposed to stare at people's knees. It didn't help that, even at her age of five (and a half, thank you very much), Marie barely stood at the height of a four-year-old.

A few weeks later, Marie and Blair were switching desserts, as Marie insisted, even though she had been packed the chocolate muffin and Blair had been given a small bag of grapes and strawberries, and Marie really wanted that chocolate muffin, but obviously friends switched desserts. It was on this day that a blonde girl approached the two, her hair tied off with a pink ribbon.

"Hello," the girl said politely. "My name is Tressa Giorgianni. May I please sit with you?"

Marie looked at this girl. She was standing straight and smiled and was polite.

"No."

"But I said please," this Tressa girl said. "And I asked nicely." She took a seat anyway.

"She said no," Blair said, her hands going to her hips.

"Everyone knows that if someone asks nicely and says please the polite thing to do is to say yes," Tressa said.

"Then I'm not polite," Marie said. She looked at Blair, and almost as if Blair understood, Blair looked at Tressa and asked, "What does polite mean?"

"Polite means not rude," Tressa said, proud that she knew the answer.

"And what does rude mean?" Blair asked after a few seconds.

This time Tressa's green eyes looked to the side, avoiding eye contact. She didn't supply an answer. After a moment, she insisted, "I am sitting here, and that is that."

Marie, Tressa, and Blair became inseparable after that. Marie liked Tressa because Tressa was an only child like she was. And she liked Blair because Blair had spunk. However, over the years, Marie and Tressa grew a little closer because sometimes Blair preferred spending time with her brother over Marie.

In third grade, they met Keelin O'Neil. Marie immediately didn't like the girl because she was the tallest girl in the grade at the time. She was even taller than most of the boys. But Tressa and Blair both immediately liked her, so Marie was forced to put up with her. And then Marie learned the best thing about Keelin... her mother was a fashion designer.

"I want your mother to design me a dress," Marie said to Keelin one day.

Keelin cocked her head, curly black hair spilling out of a sloppy pony-tail. "What do you mean?" Keelin asked.

"Blair said your mother designs clothing," Marie said. "So, I want a dress."

"But my mother is a singer," Keelin said. She smiled, small dimples appearing on her pale, freckled face.

Marie rolled her eyes. "Then what were you doing when Blair saw you at the fashion shoot her father shot over the weekend?"

Keelin stared at Marie for a few moments with blankness in her light blue eyes. "Oh, my step-mother is a designer. Bambi Bixby!"

"I never heard of her," Marie stated. She then turned her head slightly. "Step-mother?" She had never met someone with an evil step-mother like Cinderella had, but Keelin seemed to be in fine shape despite her unfortunate luck.

The only thing that kept Marie from telling Keelin that she couldn't spend time with them was the way Blair and Tressa fawned over the girl. Blair and Keelin both had famous mothers, and apparently Keelin's father was the lawyer for Tressa's parents.

In the fifth grade, Marie decided to immortalize the small group with a name. She tried several names. But nothing seemed to stick. It was Tressa that suggested Femme Fatales, and Marie said she'd give it a test period... what she really meant was that she had to look up what it meant. Once she knew what it meant, she immediately liked it, but pretended that it was only okay for about a week before officially accepting the title.

About a week or so after she, Tressa, Blair, and Keelin had become the Femme Fatales, Michelle, Alice, Amy, and their newest friend Suzy adopted a name as well, the Beauty Brigade. After that, the race was officially on. Each group tried to top the other. Each tried to be prettier, more fashionable, and tried to be the top clique of OCD. However, each clique seemed to be missing something important.

The answer came on the first day of the sixth grade. A new set of twins had moved into the area, and unlike the Sherwood twins, these two fought like mad. Marie watched for a few days as Ally tormented her sister, threw paper balls at her, stole her sister's dessert, and didn't waste a moment after the Beauty Brigade adopted Jade before Marie invited Ally over. Her original intention was to kick Keelin out, but apparently Keelin was the one that really got Ally to agree to hang with the Femme Fatales. Within a few weeks, she was a girl with a definite clique.

For most girls her age, the alarm clock went off around six-thirty or seven, but by that time of the day, Marie had been up for hours. Marie had spent the whole summer waking at four-thirty to make it to a five-thirty ballet practice in the city. She had been accepted into a summer program by the New York Russian Ballet Company, and was the youngest as well. It was a highly prestigious 'internship' which involved dancing with the company during certain performances as well as hours of practice and training with some of the best dancers in the business.

And it was where Marie had met who she was sure was the love of her life. Dimitri Brezhnev. Sure, he was Russian and eight years older than her, but he was strong and had the best abs, booty, and face Marie had ever seen in person, and danced ballet better than most men. He, however, seemed to not see her in the same light, and no matter how much she practiced and danced, he still saw her as nothing but a young girl, and he treated her as such.

But, now, the summer was over, and Marie would have to practice on her own, in her basement studio, and twice a week at an eight o'clock BADS class. A class that she now shared with not one, but two Brigaders.

Now, however, she had to concentrate on school. This year was the year that everything changed. Westchester's finest boys would be joining up with the once simple OCD to be BOCD, after having started in separate schools in the fifth grade from the boys, and it was this year that Marie would prove to Massie Block that the Femme Fatales had what it took to be the top clique in the seventh grade and that as Alpha, she should inherit Massie's throne.

Once she arrived at the school, however, fifteen minutes before the first bell rang, she remembered why she hated its halls. It smelled so... mere millionaire-ish. Not like the gardenia scented halls of her family mansion, or the lilac of the family library and office. No, instead she detected last year's fashion, poor, and worst of all, short redheads. Granted, short was not relative to her because even with her five inch pumps, she was still half an inch shorter than Michelle. But she made her way to her locker, only having one close encounter with an LBR. She had just managed to open her locker as Jake Carlton crashed into the one next to hers. His skateboard rolled down the hall a bit as he fell on his butt. And every girl in the area stared at him with admiration except Marie, who stared down at him for a moment before rolling her eyes.

"I see you've perfected personal injury and stupidity over the summer," Marie said, turning back into her locker. There wasn't too much venom in her voice. The relationship between Jake and Marie had started part way through the fourth grade when she poured a carton of chocolate milk over his head on his first day of school in Westchester. It hadn't gotten much better since, despite the fact that Jake was an actor with a recurring part on the same television show his mother starred in. Nearly every girl at the school was in love with him, save a few.

"Ah, Marie, how I've missed your scathing comments," Jake said. He stood up, and though he was among the shortest of his friends, he and she were about the same height in her pumps. "Did you shrink?"

"Oh, get a new joke because that one was never funny," Marie said, stuffing her Prada bag into her locker and pulling out her Poppy wristlet. She didn't have any notebooks or pens, just an iPad. She wasn't really one for academics.

"Nice landing, though," Tressa said, arriving at the locker just on the other side of the one Jake had crashed into. He was bending down to grab his skateboard, as someone had rolled it back in his direction. Tressa turned her green eyes to Marie. "Please tell me something interesting. I've been back in town for forty-eight hours and nothing interesting has happened."

Tressa had just returned from what should have been a relaxing summer, spending a month at her Hamptons home and another month in Italy, but it seemed the stress of school was already getting to her, and classes hadn't even started yet. Marie could tell that Tressa's eyes were scanning the halls for her biggest competition for valedictorian, Dean Patrick. And, while Marie only carried a wristlet and an iPad, Tressa traded her bag for a Kindle, which Marie knew was loaded with all of Tressa's textbooks from the past four years.

"Interesting? Here?" Marie questioned. "As if."

Jake leaned back against the locker that Tressa was at, checking that her hair was falling just so. "It just so happens I have some interesting gossip," he said. He used the mirror she had hanging in her locker to fiddle with his hair a bit. "But it'll cost you."

"Don't bother," Marie said. "It's obviously something stupid about his new skateboard or how he broke his arm when he got it."

"I didn't break my arm," Jake said turning his green eyes only briefly to Marie before turning back to Tressa. "And, it actually might have to do with you."

Ignoring Marie's comment, Tressa's eyes lit up. "Tell me," she demanded as she closed her locker.

Jake just smiled for a moment.

"Just tell us," Marie said. "Like it might be relatively interesting."

"It's very interesting," Jake said. "But, like I said, it'll cost you."

Tressa considered it for a moment, trying to figure out what Jake knew. "Okay, what do you want?"

"What do you have to offer?" Jake asked flashing his celebrity smile. It wasn't quite yet at movie star, but then again, he wasn't a movie star, just a recurring character on a half-hour comedy.

"Whatever your little heart desires!" Tressa said before laughing. "No more games, Jake. Continue."

"How about a kiss?" Jake asked.

"Do nothing more than a kiss on the cheek," Marie said, her eyes sharp. She knew that Tressa was really excited to get this news, and now even her interest was piqued.

"Oh, that's all?" Tressa asked giggling as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.

Jake waited until Tressa was too close to react, quickly turning his face and pressing his lips to hers. It took Tressa a few moments to figure out what was going on. By the time she could react, the kiss was already over. "What was that?" she asked.

"That was a kiss," Jake said. He didn't use the obvious 'duh' tone, but rather it was more of a reminder.

"Didn't you say you had some 411?" Marie questioned after a second.

Jake smirked and nodded. "I did," he said. However, he didn't release his information.

"Well, you got your kiss," Tressa said. "I want my gossip."

Jake laughed a bit. "First kiss this year was between Tressa and Jake," he said before walking down the hall, giving them a wave.

Marie was slightly impressed. "You do realize he had nothing until you kissed him," she said to Tressa. "He totally got you."

"Well, at least it was a pretty good kiss," Tressa said with a shrug as she leaned against the locker and thought about it. She turned to Marie. "What's your first class?"

"Who cares," Marie said. "Was that your first lip-kiss? Because, if it was, it sucked."

"Of course not," Tressa said, offended. "I've been kissed before. But I hope no one thinks we're together." Marie knew that Tressa was lying about the kiss not being her first.

"There would be so many broken hearts," Marie said, waving it off. "Just because he has guest starred on a crappy comedy doesn't make him a star. He's not even all that good-looking."

"He's not bad looking, a boy-toy," Tressa decided. She ran a hand though her hair, which Marie knew that Tressa was about to change the topic. "I think I'm going to throw a back-to-school party on Friday to lighten up the mood. Any thoughts?"

"People who throw the first party are just looking for attention," Marie said, shaking her head, which threw her curls about a bit. They settled back to exactly how Marie liked them. "You don't want to be the first to throw a party. You want to be the first on the guest list."

"My thoughts exactly," Blair's voice sounded behind Marie. She threw an arm over Marie's shoulder. "Now, what's this chatter I hear about Tressa and Jake?"

"It's spread already!" Tressa gasped, wondering how to approach Damage Control.

Blair, however, just laughed. "No, no one's talking," she said. "I spotted it down the hall when I was at my locker. But, seriously, what was that?"

"Oh, Jake decided he'd try to up his social status by smacking one on Tressa," Marie said.

"Hey, well, it could be worse," Blair said with a shrug. "He's almost a HART."

"Almost one doesn't make him one," Marie said. "He's still an LBR on my list."

"Who isn't one on your list?" Blair asked. "Just out of curiosity?"

Marie glanced at Blair for a moment. "If you've got someone in mind, I'm sure that your judgment is good enough to separate the total losers from the school's best."

"I'm not looking," Blair defended, her sapphire blue eyes widening. "But I'm open to the potential of finding one."

"Well, of course you are," Tressa said. "Now that Chandler is off to boarding school in England and can't beat up anyone who flirts with you." Marie noticed an almost undetectable sigh from Tressa, knowing that Tressa and Chandler had been on the verge of becoming an item before he decided to pursue soccer at a school in England. Chandler should have been Tressa's first lip-kiss, but when a boy picks soccer over a girl and his family…

"So you know how much I hate Miami?" Ally's voice broke through the hall. The three Femme Fatales turned to see the girl walking through the throngs of students. "Out of my way, LBR." Sometimes Ally didn't have the same social charisma as some of the other FFs.

"Just because you were forced to spend time with your sisters and parents isn't a reason to hate a town," Tressa said with a small sigh.

"No, the fact that Will Smith wrote a crappy song is a reason to hate it," Marie said.

"I sort of like that song," Tressa said, frowning just a bit.

"It's not ballet or in the top forty currently," Blair reminded Tressa. Only songs that fell into either of those two categories registered as good songs to Marie.

"Now, why do I feel like we're missing someone?" Ally asked, scanning the group over quickly with her dark brown eyes.

"Goodness, I have no idea why you would think that," Marie said. "Maybe that Miami heat scrambled your brain."

"Where's Keelin?" Ally asked after another second.

"Oh, yes, that one," Marie said with a deep sigh. "I suppose we ought to seek her out before she embarrasses us."

"Marie, she's our friend," Tressa said. "Why must you always be so mean and critical about her?"

"She really does bring it on herself," Marie said. "I mean, did she even pass last year?"

"She did," Ally said. "Barely, but she did."


	2. Chapter 2: Michelle Van Allen

**So, this chapter is quite a bit shorter than the last, as the last one had back story and this one doesn't really as the last one built the structure of Michelle's Clique, just without how they all met. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy and leave comments.**

**And, remember, this story is from an RP, so there are a lot of characters, but I'll try not to over-whelm you with them and give enough into each so that you can separate them. As well, this isn't fully canon.**

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Chapter Two: Michelle Van Allen, Alpha

On the front lawn, one girl was reveling in the strength and power that the PC had at BOCD as the clique of five walked into the school. Michelle Van Allen was not going to let a little bump of being born one year too late to be Massie Block's co-alpha get in her way of being Massie's favorite seventh-grade alpha. She knew that, when the year ended, Massie would gladly hand over the reins of the school to Michelle, and she and her Beauty Brigade would have their year to reign supreme. Of course, Michelle knew that there was no one who could compete for the top spot that was of any concern, not even Marie Goldstein. So, Michelle walked into the school, head held as high as the relatively short girl could hold it, her four-inch heels giving her a little bit of extra, needed, height.

Alice and Amy Sherwood caught up with the redhead at the doors, Starbucks in hand. Michelle recognized the sound of Alice's Yves Saint Laurent pumps as she took the stairs and held out a hand, which Amy immediately deposited a spare latte into. Flanked by two of her best friends, Michelle felt invincible.

"Hey girls," Michelle said before taking a sip of her latte. It was just the temperature she liked it. The Beauty Brigade was still sharp on their morning routines after a whole summer apart. "What's the new news?"

"Nothing really," Amy said. "I mean, we just got back from England a week ago."

Alice added, with heavy sarcasm, "Oh, what fun."

"But, what's new with you?" Amy asked politely.

"Psh." Michelle rolled her indigo eyes. "As if I did anything of interest this summer. Once again, my uncle and his annoying daughters were over."

"Wouldn't those be your cousins?" Amy asked.

Michelle ignored the question. "I was basically held hostage to entertain them. It's like, they reap the benefits every summer of my dad's success. They only went home yesterday, thank gawd."

"Well, why don't you just come to England with us next year," Amy insisted.

"We were dying of boredom!" Alice said with a laugh.

"Oh, but then I'd miss the family mass suicide next summer," Michelle said sarcastically. "Oh, wait, that was just my fantasy of how good it could be."

"Well, that sounds much more interesting that 'tea with Her Majesty'," Alice said. She rolled her blue-grey eyes. "Seriously? I've known her since I was born. I don't need to refer to my great aunt as 'Her Majesty'."

It was a well know fact that the Sherwoods were related to the English royal line. Michelle was sure that their mother was a duchess or a baroness or something like that. They were too far away to ever hope to get the crown (after all, they had three older siblings themselves) but they still spent most of their summers to be trained like royalty. They had only ever moved to America for political purposes, as far as Michelle could tell, and the twins spent every summer and most of their winter breaks in England. At the very least, it kept up their accents, which were constantly fading toward American styles of speech.

Amy mumbled some sort of agreement, but was peering over the shoulder of a short eighth grader, fluffing her hair in the girl's locker mirror. It was an obvious sign that she had spotted Ringo Blake, who she had had the biggest crush on since she first met him at Michelle's house when she was six.

"Just call her Queeny," Michelle said, ignoring the fact that she knew Ringo would be near her in just a few moments. "What is she going to do? She'll just laugh it off as you are related to her. And at least you were in one of the fashion capitals of the world. I wasn't even allowed to wear Burberry while those cretins were at my house. And I had to lock my closet. So I was stuck among LBR family and couldn't even look good among them."

"What's new Mischief?" a voice said behind Michelle. Ringo was the seventh grade alpha male and self-proclaimed annoyer of Michelle. He was the first person to refer to the clique as the 'Brat Brigade,' which had caught on quickly among the Femme Fatales. Ringo and Michelle had known one another since they were three, as their mothers had become best friends through a book club and shopping. "No cousins this time?"

"And this guy actually spotted them," Michelle said, not even looking at Ringo.

"Oh, poor you," Alice said with a laugh, trying to picture the whole thing.

Amy chuckled as well, tossing a bit of her hair, trying to attract Ringo's attention. "That sounds just terrible." Her accent was a little more pronounced than it was naturally.

"I know, it's terrible that some poor family has to suffer Mischief every summer," Ringo said dramatically.

"Oh, shut your trap," Michelle snapped at him.

"Would you two stop bickering?" Alice asked. "You sound like an old married couple." She noticed her sister's eyes widen at the idea of Michelle and Ringo being in a relationship.

"Oh, no we do nawt!" Michelle snapped. Ringo just chuckled, still smiling. There were very few things that could make that smile disappear.

Michelle spun around and began in the opposite direction, Amy and Alice following, though Amy a little more slowly, her eyes lingering on Ringo an extra few seconds.

Michelle's life was different from Marie's. While Marie was spoiled rotten because her parents didn't exactly make time for her, but forced her to make time for them, Michelle usually got along great with her parents, except when it came to her cousins. Her mother came from a well off family, went to business school, and then opened up an accessories boutique in town that carried couture items that couldn't be found in other stores. Her father was born and raised middle-class, but after his time in school, rose the ranks in a medium-sized company and became the youngest CFO, shortly after marrying. Ceri and Willem adored their daughter, bent to most of her wishes, but still maintained a good relationship. Ceri knew the numbers and parents of all of Michelle's friends while Willem actually kept track of her shoe size, favorite color (red) and that her favorite brand was Burberry.

There was something about Burberry that just got Michelle excited. To her, it was sophisticated and fashionable and more posh than other brands, while not being too dressed up. She could wear it to school, or just out on the town.

"Anyone want to walk with me to English class?" Amy asked, her British accent still coming through a little bit more than usual as they were still within Ringo's hearing range. "Room 308."

"I'm in room 307 for math," Suzy said, coming up behind the Beauty Brigade and throwing an arm around the shoulders of the twins. She sighed dramatically. "Another year is beginning. Let's just die now."

"You should have a brighter outlook, Suzy," Amy said. "You sound suicidal."

"Oh," Alice said with a smile. "You can join the Van Allen mass suicide next summer."

Michelle and Amy laughed while Suzy just looked confused. "Whatev," she said, rolling her hazel eyes. "I do not sound suicidal. I'm just a realist is all. The truth is that school is a miserable nine months."

"Well, at least you know how your mother felt while she was pregnant with you," Alice said with a shrug.

"This is where we leave you two," Michelle said and waved as Suzy and Amy turned one way down the hall while Alice and Michelle went the other.

"Where are you headed, BTW?" Alice asked as the two girls continued down the hall.

"Science," Michelle said with a sigh. She was not a fan of the class.

"Oh, me too," Alice said brightly. "Hopefully we can be lab partners!"

"Def," Michelle said. However, upon arriving at the science lab, they were met with a seating chart. Michelle quickly spotted M E Van Allen next to O M Goldstein. "You've got to be kidding me, right?"

"Oh, bollocks," Alice said, covering her eyes after seeing Michelle's partner. "Now I'm scared to look. What does it say next to my name? Oh, don't tell me if it's bad." She gasped. "Is it an LBR? Or an EW? Or even worse, a Femme Fatale?"

"It says B Holiday," Michelle said. She furrowed her brow a bit. "Who is that?"

"I don't know," Alice said, moving her hands from her eyes. "Maybe it's a new girl? Oh, I hope she's smart."

"Or a new boy," Michelle said, reminding Alice that they were indeed in a co-ed school for the mean time.

"In which case I hope he's cute," Alice said.

A moment later, a girl with flat brown hair walked past them. She wore jeans, a graphic tee, and dirty sneakers. And within a few moments, she had sat down at the table Alice would be working from.

"Well, I'm guessing smart," Michelle said. "She obviously belongs at ADD, which means she must be here on scholarship."

"Definitely," Alice nodded in agreement. She smiled. "Hey, but if I have a smart lab partner, that means I can do less work and still reap the benefits of good grades."

Michelle quirked her mouth in annoyance. "Good for you. With the midget as my lab partner, I'm going to have to do all the work. She's not very smart, it's so obvious that she buys her grades."

"Obv," Alice agreed. She took a deep breath. "I might as well meet her, as I'm going to be sitting next to her. And she will probably be in charge of my grades in this class."

Michelle nodded and walked to her own seat. She pulled a notebook from her satchel along with a red pen. With perfect precision, she wrote 'Science' across the top of the notebook, and then opened it to the first page, writing the day's date. Michelle may not have been the number one student in the school, but she was definitely up there. Out of the Brigaders, she and Jade were the two smartest, though they had different goals. Michelle had no idea what she wanted to do with her life, but she knew that she'd be going to Penn State for college, just like her father. Jade was aiming for the Ivy League.

She pulled her phone from her purse as there were still thirty seconds before class and texted Jade. **Where R U?**

She then stuffed her phone back into her purse just as the teacher walked in.

"Okay, everyone, sit down," their teacher, a squat man with a really bad comb-over said. "I see we're still missing a few people. First day jitters."

A moment later, Marie walked in with Blair in tow. They smiled, some quiet words were exchanged, and then they giggled, splitting up. Looking at his seating chart, Mr. Rolland noted who they were. "Miss Kingston," he said, looking at Blair as she was sitting next to a boy. "And Miss…"

Michelle saw Marie glance at her with her light brown eyes for a second. "Van Allen."

"She's actually Goldstein," Michelle said quickly before Marie could get her in trouble and mark up her perfect record. "I'm Michelle Van Allen."

"Late and lying," Mr. Rolland said. "I see this is going to be a very fun year indeed."

The rest of the period was spent with Michelle and Marie sending glares at one another. Michelle had taken notes when needed, as Mr. Rolland was one to jump straight into teaching the first day of school, while Michelle noticed that Marie spent the whole time on her iPad looking at a few fashion websites, pulling up an e-mail every time Mr. Rolland happened by them so it looked like Marie was taking notes. At one of the extended times that Marie had to keep the e-mail up, she noticed it was about ballet, which didn't surprise Michelle in the slightest. After all, everyone knew that Marie was a fab ballerina, considering she was the number one in her class at BADS. People even suspected that she'd be better than Skye Hamilton, but the two had never been in the same class, probably purposely by Skye's mother so that Skye would never be shown up.

"So, class, please finish answering the packet with your lab partner for tomorrow," Mr. Rolland said with just a minute left of class. "You may download the text materials as an e-book with the code provided at the top of your syllabus, or pick up an actual book here." He held up the heavy book and Michelle was glad that she owned a Nook. "I suggest you exchange phone numbers or e-mail addresses with your lab partner, as you will be working together numerous times through the quarter."

Michelle frowned. Somewhere in the depths of her phone she had Marie's number. "Look," Michelle said. "I can tell you obviously don't care about your grades, but I actually have a record to maintain."

"So you'll do all partner projects on your own," Marie said. "Good, we're in agreement then." She stood up, grabbed her iPad, and headed out the door as the bell rang. Michelle was barely able to keep her mouth closed.

"That bad?" Alice asked.

"She is so lucky that I'll be doing half her work," Michelle said, shoving her notebook back into her bag. She looked up to see that Alice's lab partner was actually slipping an iPad mini into her ratty bag. "So, how's scholarship?"

"Um… apparently not so," Alice said. She looked at the flat-haired girl. "She's from San Francisco, and not on scholarship at all. She just… well… dresses like that."

"Why?" Michelle asked. Alice shrugged. "Is she at least nice?"

"Oh, she's a doll," Alice said. "Couldn't ask for a nicer partner." She smiled. "Also, she apparently likes sports, so I'm gonna try to convince her to join the Sirens. Being on the team with Jade's satanic sister is annoying, and because she's just the teeniest bit better than me, the rest of the team worships the earth she dribbles on."

"Do you know if she's any good?" Michelle asked.

"Better than you," Alice said, smirking. It was a very well known fact that Michelle was not athletic. Alice played soccer, Jade and Amy danced, and Suzy came from a sports driven family and had to join a sport to keep her partial scholarship. But, Michelle felt that, as long as she passed PE, there was no reason to actually be athletic. She held a healthy diet, and was active enough, walking her bunnies and cruising the mall on a regular basis. But hand-eye coordination was not one of her traits.

"I still think you should work on convincing Suzy," Michelle said. As they walked out of the room. "I mean, you could be really mean and suggest it of her father. He'd love that."

"Yeah, but Suzy would hate me," Alice said.

Michelle nodded. "Well, convince the guys into a pick-up game of it, and maybe she'll start to like the sport."

Alice laughed. "So true," she said. "Maybe I could even convince Amy onto a field if the boys were playing."


	3. Because, Who Doesn't Want a Boy's Tie?

**I'll admit, I had a lot of fun writing the guys into this chapter. I love the dynamic, and hot it's so different from the cliques that turn to their Alpha for everything. Instead they're making fun of one another one moment and high-fiving in agreement the next.  
**

* * *

Because, Who Doesn't Want a Boy's Tie?

The one period of the day that Marie made sure she arrived on time was lunch. Not only to score the perfect table, but because it was social hour and Marie was always up for maximum public appearance. She doubted that the school could survive long periods of time without worshipping her in every way.

"Hey," Tressa said, arriving just a few moments after Marie had sat down. She carried only a bottle of Pelligrino and her clutch. Marie couldn't remember the last time she had actually seen the blonde girl eat at lunch. "How has your day been so far?"

"Well, considering I'm stuck to Van Allen first period of the day…" Marie left it at that.

"Oh, those Brat Brigaders are so annoying," Keelin O'Neil said, placing her lunch tray down. She passed on a salad and bottle of flavored water to Marie, as was Keelin's job. She then took a seat next to Tressa and opened up her own salad.

"Switch," Marie said, glancing at her salad and then Keelins. The tall raven-haired girl sighed and then pushed her strawberry salad to Marie and took the ballerina's all green salad. "Anyway, what were you saying about the Brats?"

Keelin sighed and forked a cucumber. "Is there anyway we can just get them expelled?"

Tressa clapped at the mention. "Oh, that's a good idea," she said, before taking a sip of her water.

"But then there is the problem of who we would look so much better than," Marie said, like it was obvious.

"Well, you still up-stage Amy and Jade in your BADS class," Tressa said.

"They're hardly competition," Marie said, rolling her brown eyes.

"Hello, pretties," Blair said, taking a seat on Marie's side, opposite from Tressa. "Sorry I'm late, I was on the phone with Karlie Kloss about a surprise."

"And what surprise is this?" Marie asked. Everyone knew Marie was not a fan of surprises, unless it was in the form of a gold present.

Blair smiled. "So, you know how my mom and I had front row seats for the Valentino show in Milan over summer? Well, we went to the after party, of course, and Karlie came up to me, noticing that we were wearing the same shoes." Keelin's eyes widened at the idea that Blair had made friends with a model as well known as Karlie Kloss. "Anyway, we got to talking, exchanged numbers and—" she stopped for a moment and glanced around to see if anyone was listening. Seeing that the coast was clear, she continued, leaning in and lowering her voice. "Apparently Valentino is starting up a younger line, marketing toward teens, called Miss Valentino. And they're looking for models to be the new face. And, because I was looking totes fab that night, and I vouched for you all, Karlie talked to management. We've got a private go-see the Saturday after next!"

Marie, however, had lowered her eyes in a glare at Blair. "You know they will think you were kidding about me, right?" It didn't matter that Marie was absolutely beautiful. She was just too short to be a model.

"Ehmagawd!" Keelin gasped and smiled brightly.

"A go-see?" Tressa asked. "It seems so common, and so much effort for a simple modeling gig."

"I mean, I heard about it, but I can't believe I missed the Valentino show," Keelin sighed. "I was still in Paris with Bambi for her shoot. But, it would be so amazing. And Bambi is so close to getting my dad to agree to allow me to model professionally."

"And I wonder why I feel ignored," Marie said, almost off-handedly, though her annoyance was coming through.

"Oh, well, you see, some of us have a chance in real modeling careers," Keelin said. Marie narrowed her eyes at Keelin. "But you can star in Giselle." Marie glowered at Keelin's words. If it wasn't for the fact that Bambi provided the Femme Fatales one-of-a-kind killer haute outfits on a seasonal basis, she'd drop Keelin, no questions asked.

"Look, Karlie said they were looking for runway and print," Blair said to Marie. "And everyone knows how photogenic you are."

"Oh," Marie feigned excited. "So, that way they can reject me for both, or, build a miniaturized set for me so I look taller than I really am because it doesn't matter how tall a heel I wear, I'm still too short!" The last four words were in her angry voice.

"Um, how about we talk about that later," Tressa said, knowing they had to steer the conversation in a different direction.

Blair sighed. "Well, what do you want to talk about?" She opened her bamboo panko box to start eating. "Because, I really don't want to hear about one of your absurdly early in the year tests."

"How about boys?" Keelin asked, her eyes landing on a table where all the most popular Briarwood boys were sitting.

Marie groaned. "All the boys here are so immature," she said. "Just ask Tressa about Jake this morning."

"I am so over dealing with Jake," Tressa said, rolling her eyes.

"Are you so sure?" Blair asked. "What about that kiss this morning?"

"Absolutely not a big deal," Tressa snapped. "I'm setting my sights on someone a little higher."

"Taller, too, I suppose as you are taller than Jake," Marie said.

"Who do you have in mind then?" Keelin asked.

Tressa pursed her lips for a moment and glanced over at the table all the most popular and sought after seventh-grade Briarwood boys were sitting at and noticed a tall, lean boy sitting down with a wide smile on his face. "Well, there's always Dean," she said. "He's my only real competition for Valedictorian, not to mention super sweet."

"And probably the least immature guy here," Marie said.

"And by that, don't you just mean the most mature?" Blair asked.

"They're all _im_mature," Marie said. "And don't tell me what I mean."

"And he's also so mysterious," Keelin said, her eyes shining for a moment.

"Hey, if I date him, I can distract him from his studies, have a HART boyfriend, and win valedictorian. It's a win-win situation," Tressa said. She nodded. "That's it, it's settled. I like Dean."

Keelin's light blue eyes widened for a moment. She quickly looked down, hoping that none of the other girls noticed.

"In that case, I'll take Jake," Ally said, slipping into her seat next to Blair. "He is, after all, cute."

"And not that bad of a kisser," Blair said, smiling at Tressa. "Right, T?"

"Plausible deniability," Tressa said. "It never happened."

"I believe that only works if there weren't any witnesses," Marie said.

"Ehmagawd!" Blair gasped, glancing at the boys' table. "Do you see what I see?"

"This has to be remedied," Keelin said.

"Don't worry," Ally said smirking. "I've got it handled."

"Do you now?" Marie asked an eyebrow quirked. Marie was definitely closer to Blair and Tressa than she was to Ally, but she did like Ally's attitude.

"Blair, I dare you to go take Percy's tie," Ally said with her small smirk growing.

Blair laughed. "Dare accepted," she said standing, and turning toward the boys. "Just watch and take notes."

* * *

Michelle had just sat down at her table when Suzy appeared. The brunette girl had just an orange and a bottle of water with her, which appeared to be her entire lunch. "I didn't have you in any of my morning classes this year," Suzy said. "I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing?"

"How could that possibly be a good thing?" Michelle asked.

"You're smarter than I am," Suzy said. "If I'm in easier classes, maybe I'll be able to keep up better grades." She snickered a bit, but Michelle just rolled her indigo eyes.

"Your scholarship doesn't require you to be in advanced classes?" Michelle asked.

Suzy shook her head. "It's only partial scholarship. So long as I have a sport on my resume every year I'm good," she said, slowly peeling the orange. "Granted, I hated the track and field team last year, so I won't be doing that again."

"You could always join soccer," Alice said right behind the brunette. She sat down next to her, across from Michelle. "I know you're athletic enough for it, and I can just imagine how good you are, as you must have practiced with your sister once or twice and she's basically a legend. She was better than Kristen Gregory."

"Oh, that has to be blasphemy to say that," Suzy said, snickering a bit. "To speak down of a PC member."

"Hey, I'm not saying that Kristen isn't good," Alice said. "She's the best player at this school, and probably the best in her grade in the state. But I am saying that Anna is better." She stared at Suzy with wide pleading eyes. "Your sister was so good that she got a full scholarship into the school without needing to do the academic half."

"Not to mention earned your half scholarship so long as you follow the scholarship rules," Michelle reminded Suzy.

Without the scholarships, more earned by Suzy's older sister Anna, the Zuki family would not be able to send the girls to private school. As it was, Suzy went to ADD until her sister tried out for the Sirens, earning her own scholarship. Of course, her parents only agreed to allow Anna to play if Suzy could attend the school on some scholarship as well. Anna's extraordinary skills were just that good that the school agreed to a partial scholarship for Suzy as long as she could keep the rules.

"We have a field hockey team, right?" Suzy asked.

"Yes, but they're the worst team in their league," Alice said.

"Well, maybe I'm just what they need," Suzy said. The last thing she wanted was the join soccer and then have everyone remark that, while she was pretty good, she was nowhere near the level of her sister. People tended to forget that while Anna was amazing at sports, Suzy actually got all As, not straight C minuses.

"Do you even know how to play field hockey?" Michelle asked. "Just out of curiosity."

"It's basically hockey except on a field," Suzy said before slipping a piece of orange into her mouth.

"Yeah, whatever you _do_ join, don't join _that_," Alice said.

Jade rushed into the cafeteria, did a quick scan of the room, and then made a beeline for the BB's table. "Ehmagosh, I'm so sorry!" Jade apologized. "I just arrived at school—we just got back from Miami this morning and I had to shower and stuff and Ally hogged the bathroom until the last possible second to be able to get here on time. My parents said I could catch a ride later because I passed all my classes with As last year." She took a breath as she hadn't since before she started talking, then slipped into the seat next to Michelle.

"Don't be sorry for showering, Jade," Suzy said and she and Alice snickered a little bit.

"We're all happier for it," Alice added.

"Yeah," Jade said and lightly tapped her head. "That was pretty stupid of me for apologizing for showering, huh?" She laughed lightly, but good-naturedly. "So, what'd I miss? And what classes do you guys have?"

"I do nawt want to talk about classes," Michelle said, glowering slightly because she had Marie in three out of four classes. She only had math without the ballerina before lunch, but even in that, she had Tressa from the Femme Fatales. She sighed, however, figuring that Jade would at least in her math class.

"Gimme your schedule," Suzy said, reaching out her hand to Jade. "I'll compare."

Suddenly there was a shadow over Suzy and Alice. "Oh, Jade, looks like we have PE together," Amy said standing over the two. "Otherwise, nothing."

"Hey, sister," Alice said, looking up. "Where have you been?"

"I was just taking time at my locker," Amy said, her cheeks going a little red. She slipped into the seat next to Alice.

"That's funny, I didn't think your locker would be next to Ringo's," Suzy said. "Seeing as Blake is far away from Sherwood." The fact that Amy's face just turned more red was showing that Ringo had been part of the reason she had lingered behind.

"So, what were we talking about?" Amy asked, to deflect the conversation away from her crush.

"What is the new girl doing?" Michelle questioned.

"We were?" Alice asked.

"What new girl?" Jade asked.

"No, look at the new girl," Michelle said, motioning to the table that all the seventh grade MDBs, that is Most Desirable Boys, sat. They were not just HARTs, they were the best of the HARTs. And the new girl was sitting at their table.

"Oh, that's good for her," Alice said. "I don't think she'd make any friends with girls here." Michelle looked at Alice with narrowed indigo eyes, but the brunette just shrugged. "What, believe me, she is _nawt _a threat."

* * *

Brett Holiday was not sure what to expect when she arrived at school that morning. She had been told by her father that it was a private school, but then again, the private school she had gone to in San Francisco hadn't exactly been conventional. When she arrived in town, she was relieved to see people her age walking around in jeans and tees, so that morning she had donned her favorite pair of jeans, with natural holes in the knees, and a white shirt with a panda on it she had gotten by donating money to the World Wildlife Fund.

And she immediately knew that the girls at OCD were _not_ like the girls that she had met two days earlier at the mall.

She was completely ignored until class started. The girl next to her in science had been nice enough, though not exactly inviting her to hang.

And then in history, she had been hit by a few spitballs from a guy she discovered was named Ringo. And despite his golden tan, golden hair, and chocolate eyes, and how every other girl in the classroom, including the teacher, stared at him dreamily, Brett was not amused picking the spitballs out of her straight brown hair.

She had just closed her locker door for lunch when she discovered the fliers that had been posted around the school. A lacrosse team was being started, and those wanting to try out were encouraged to meet outside by the south side of the soccer field. Brett had heard the soccer was the big thing of the Briarwood-Octavian Country Day school, and while she had always enjoyed playing soccer, she thought that lacrosse sounded like more fun. Plus, it wasn't an already established group, so she wouldn't be left out by preformed cliques.

Walking into the lunch room, Brett was looking for anyone to sit with. Most of the girls stared at her like she was a disease. Most of the guys didn't seem to notice she was even there. Then she heard a few guys talking about the fliers.

"Oh, do you guys play lacrosse?" Brett asked.

"Well, I wouldn't say we play, yet," one boy with dark brown hair and blue eyes said. "More like we plan on starting."

"Why?" Ringo asked, throwing on a dashing smile and leaning toward her. "Want to be first in line to get autographs from the school's next sports stars?"

"Um, no," Brett said, not swayed by his looks at all. "I was planning on joining myself."

Ringo laughed lightly, so Brett turned to the other boys at the table. "Mind if I sit?"

"Sure, pull up a seat," a second brown-haired boy said, gesturing to an open chair. "I'm Brody, by the way." He extended his hand and she shook it.

"Nice to meet you, Brody," Brett said. "I'm Brett."

"Dean," the first dark-haired boy said, also extending a hand.

A third boy, this one with blonde hair and green eyes, leaned back and smirked. "I suppose you don't need introductions for me," he said. "You probably recognize me from television."

Brett blinked. "I don't watch tv," she said. "It seems like a waste of time when I could be doing something productive."

Brody laughed. "I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship," he said. "Oh, wait..."

"Don't worry," Brett said. "I have seen _Casablanca_. I do watch movies if people I trust suggest them."

"Well, you should watch CBS on Wednesdays at 6:30," Jake said as that was when he, sometimes, appeared as a guest star on his mother's show.

"People I trust," Brett said. She smiled. "I don't even know your name."

"He's Jake," Dean said.

"So, what's your story?" Brody asked.

"Oh, I just moved here from San Francisco," Brett said. "My dad didn't like my mother's 'indie' lifestyle, or the school she was sending me to, so they just had a custody battle and guess who won."

"Hm, interesting," Dean said. "Typically mothers win custody battles."

"Don't mind him when he does that," Brody said. "Dean's dead set on being a lawyer. I think he reads law journals in his free time."

"I do," Dean said.

"Hey, each to their own," Brett said. "Anyway, I bet he'll knock 'em dead when he's in law school."

"That he will," another voice said before sitting down next to Brett. This boy had blonde hair that fell in his blue eyes, and like all the boys at the table aside from Jake, he was tall and well-build for a seventh-grader.

"Meet Percy," Brody said to Brett. "Percy, this is Brett."

"She's our mascot," Ringo said.

Brett made a face at Ringo. "I am _not_ a mascot."

"That's what you will be if you try to join the team," Ringo said.

"Ignore him," Dean said. "We all do."

"You do not," Ringo said, not minding at all what they said. "You worship me like a god."

"I'm an Atheist," Dean said.

"Half Jewish," Percy said. "There is only one god and you are not it."

"I'm agreeing with Levine," Jake said, gesturing to Percy.

"Oh, your words strike me deep in the heart," Ringo mocked. He turned to Brody. "You'll support me."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware we were talking about you," Brody said, a small smile on his face.

"And that's just the twist of the knife," Ringo said.

"So, Brett, where are you from?" Percy asked turning back to her.

"San Francisco," she responded.

"Cool, Bay Area," Percy said. "I think my aunt lives there. Well, there or Orlando."

"Those are two completely different cities," Brett said. "They're on opposite sides of the country."

"Yeah, geography is not his best subject," Ringo said.

"Not yours either," Dean reminded him.

"PE is my best subject," Percy said.

"I hear you," Ringo said and the two high-fived.

"Mind if I borrow this," a voice said in Percy's ear, while fingering his tie with perfectly manicured fingers. "You can have it back eventually."

Percy looked up over his shoulder to see Blair's sapphire blue eyes and dark curls falling about her. He smirked. "On one condition," he said. "You. Me. Pizza. Friday night."

"Done," Blair said and spun him around and loosened the tie, took it off him, and then slipped it over her head where it settled loosely around her neck. "Call me," she said, smoothing the tie down. "Buh-Bye." And with that, she sauntered back to her own table, knowing that at the very least Percy's eyes were on her, though she suspected that most of the guys were watching her.


End file.
